


Let Me Be Yours

by Renyo



Series: Unspoken Promises [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Innuendo, Knight!Harry, M/M, Sort of Medieval, voldy has a different snake face
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:54:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2209518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renyo/pseuds/Renyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry – the Noble Knight of Potter House by his birthright – and three other young Knights had been designated to rescue a team of Scout Legion. His godfathers Remus and Sirius were amongst the captured, so was Ron’s sister. When his King had told him it would be a dangerous task, Harry did not know it would be a point of no return, for him.</p><p>I don't own the Harry Potter series, and I am not doing this for profit. This is pure entertainment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Be Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by YumeNoTsuzuki
> 
> If you want to skip the long background and get to the story, then just remember a few points:  
> 1) This medieval universe does have magic in it, but only practiced by a minority group of sorcerers and sorceresses. Some of the items and weapons are imbued with magic. Harry and Knights do not have magic. However, Hermione is a magical healer here.  
> 2) Almost everyone you know in the HP series has all fought in the First War in this universe.  
> 3) Dumbledore is the interim leader of the kingdom, elected for his outstanding leadership back in the First War, and he's the one who appoints Harry as the new Knight Captain and assigns some (rather difficult) tasks to him.
> 
> Please enjoy the story. Scroll down to the horizontal line and the actual story begins after it.

Background:

The Scout Legion reported a missing unit, stating that You-Know-Who had done the deed. Despite the King’s insistence, many survivors of the war still feared to pronounce His true name. It was said to be Lord Voldemort although no one could confirm about the validity of this information. The adults had repeatedly warned their children not to speak of the name because it would bring bad luck to the village. Thus, a nationwide Taboo was enforced to prohibit anyone from bringing the subject up casually, and the sorcerer has been called You-Know-Who since. There were only a handful of people who dared to speak of his true name, including his King, godfathers, and himself.

 

In the First War, the notorious sorcerer had been vigorously claiming territory in the South of Hogwarts. As for his intention, it was no doubt malicious, yet the evil warlock did not fall back to his old habit. Their intelligence had discovered nothing about Lord Voldemort’s plans. There had been no recruitment for a new army, liberation of his former commanders, or slaughter in general. It was as if You-Know-Who wanted to charge into a battle on his own. However, the man was doing well without his supporters behind his back. In fact, he was making better progress than in the last war. With no help from his followers, You-Know-Who had now completely occupied the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid, the Ground Keeper, had informed them that his gigantic spider friend was migrating to somewhere else for better protection. Swarms of animals and magical creatures had fled to evade the dark dictatorship of the forest’s former resident.

 

The battle between the Kingdom and You-Know-Who has been plaguing the kingdom since before they were even born, scorching every inch of soil they set on foot. Good people like Harry’s parents sacrificed their lives to protect children from the malicious sorcerer and his army of Death Eaters. With numerous adults dying, children, all under the age of seventeen, had volunteered to take part in the bloody battles. Back then, Harry was about to pass his sixteenth birthday. Being one of the oldest orphans in the war, he established Dumbledore’s Army with Ron and Hermione’s help in order to prepare the young warriors. They trained relentlessly every day to reduce any possible casualty on the battlefront. Yet, no matter how much effort they put into teaching the kids, their friends’ deaths were inevitable.

 

Since he was an infant, he has always lived under the tender care of the Weasley clan. True, the family held no fortune or title, but they were also one of the more well-known and respected families in the kingdom. The family’s kindness had made sure he was loved and well cared for. Although Ron’s family was not of nobility, the fierce Weasley clan had contributed to the First War against You-Know-Who on the frontline.

 

It has been seven years since the end of the war; all of them were no longer the scrawny teenagers they used to be. Ron and the other two boys had been granted knighthood as a reward for their service. Not many of the original Knights survived the war after the final battle, so more fresh blood had been inducted to restore the Kingdom to order. Harry was Knighted belatedly when he was supposed to be knighted at the age of fifteen had his father been alive to participate the ceremony. When a successor reaches the age of maturity, the retiring House Master should be present and formally pass the title to the successor before the accolade. However, Harry’s parents passed away when Harry was a baby, so a family confidant is necessary to execute the succession. Sirius could have handled the ceremony as a Surrogate, but the turbulent Court politics prevented Harry from claiming his birthright.

 

While the celebration had been going on day and night, the wise King Dumbledore had pulled Harry aside to discuss a matter of great importance. From what he remembered, King Dumbledore had implied that You-Know-Who had specifically targeted Harry when he was born. However, the man’s riddled words did not give away any reason as to why. Thus, Harry did not think of the matter twice, since the man was supposed to be dead. After all, his combined effort with the King dealt Lord Voldemort a critical blow and finished him once and for all.

 

However, the raven-haired Knight Captain could not be more wrong in his assumption. The old leader of Hogwarts believed that You-Know-Who was still alive as the sorcerer’s evil aura still lingered in the Forbidden Forest. Further into the middle of the forest, You-Know-Who might have been recovering from his injury and bidding his time to take over the Kingdom again. In the end, he had to swear to tell no one but the Knights about this secret, or the whole Kingdom would be in panic. After all, they had only just begun to recover from the wounds and scars caused by the last war.

 

* * *

 

 

Actual story:

On top of saving their comrades, the Knights were also tasked with investigating You-Know-Who’s current strategic position and finding out how he had flourished without leading an army.

 

Yet, here he stood in front of the Forbidden Forest with no resistance coming to seize him and his men.

 

“Oi, mate. This forest is too bloody quiet, don’t you think? I thought You-Know-Who would have sent his minions to ambush us by now. Blimey, our horses are too scared to even pass the first ring of the trees,” his best friend Ron asked, rubbing his sore muscles and removing a small twig from his armor.

 

Another knight of their age, Seamus, also added his input to the conversation, “Ron has a point, Captain. I haven’t been able to even hear a thing since we entered His territory.” He was rubbing the hilt of his steel blade and eyeing the nearby bushes warily. The old habit still hung around even after the war. Harry remembered that the pyrotechnic had even packed extra explosive weapons in the armory. Seamus Finnigan might not have been the best swordsman on his team, but he had a knack for making things go Boom.

 

To the right of Seamus, Dean was stretching his arms and yawning. He commented, “What should we really expect anyway? Most of His strongest warriors have already been imprisoned or fled to who knows where. It’s probably just him lounging in his imaginary throne at his fortress, _assuming_ he is even there.”

 

On edge, Harry alerted his men, “Constant vigilance, everyone. The man was able to capture four of our best Stealth Masters, and Neville reported that only the horses came back but not the riders. Something must be wrong.”

 

Arms held high in a surrendering gesture, Dean straightened his back, “Calm down, Harry. You’re sounding like Moody now. I’m just saying that we should focus on finding our people and leave this creepy forest as soon as possible. All these paranoid thoughts are grinding on our nerves, but that’s not going to help us.”

 

“I’m just say-”

 

Before the leader of the group could finish his sentence, he was interruped by his right hand man.

 

“Is that a castle ahead of us?” Ron squinted and pointed his finger at the black formation about 150 feet away from them.

 

All the knights looked to the direction in which Ron was pointing. Seamus, whose eyes were more reliable to accurately see said, “More like ruins, you mean,” he raised his eyebrows. “Blimey, the whole fortress looks like it has been charred and abandoned for centuries. How it still stands today is a miracle.”

 

Harry inclined his head to get a better view of the ancient building. Indeed, the architecture certainly had seen a better day. Given the scarcity of lives in its vicinity, the abandoned castle seemed to be Voldemort’s hideout. With that in mind, Harry quickly ordered the Knights to approach the castle.

 

The Knights dashed on the blackened bridge and easily entered the broken gate. This time they didn’t find any monsters or masked junior sorcerers assaulting them. Instead, dust and spider webs fell onto their shining armour and into their faces as well.

 

“Bloody hell!” Ron yelped as he cast off the white, sticky strings, “I hate spiders.”

 

“After all the battles we fought, you are afraid of spiders?”

 

“Shut up, Seamus.”

 

While cleaning himself, Dean idly circled around the lobby, “You would think You-Know-Who would clean this place up considering he likes grandeur and all that.”

 

Ron slowly recovered from the initial shock and started to investigate the place as well, “And look at the staircase! Half of it is already blown off. Although the scorching mark seems relatively new compared to the rest of the castle. Guess he was really pissed at you and the King then, Harry.”

 

Harry dryly replied, “You don’t say. Anyway, everyone, let’s keep it quiet. If Voldemort hasn’t realized we’re here already, he certainly will if we all keep talking so loud all at once.”

 

None of them dared to speak afterwards, nor did they venture to the upper floors due to the lack of means to ascend. The young men finished surveying the ball room, kitchen, dining hall, and other numerous dusty rooms. The other Knights were clueless as to where else Voldemort could have kept his hostages, so they eventually just trailed after Harry and kept an eye on him just because trouble always found him first.

 

Harry inwardly rolled his eyes at his friends. Knowing they meant well did not make him feel any more comfortable under the collective focus of their stares. Sure, he had accidentally got into fights even when he was doing nothing, but he also always managed to stay in one piece in the end.

 

The wandering ended as Harry discovered a door that he didn’t recall being present the first time they made rounds discovering the castle. It was the same worm-eaten, wooden door like every other one, but none of the others had led them to any significant discovery.

 

“I didn’t see this door when we split up. This may be a trap.”

 

Others, however, did not share his suspicions. Dean said, “Well, Harry. It’s not like we have other ways to go.”

 

Ron murmured something about spiders, but the redhead still had a determined look on his face. Unfortunately, nothing Harry said would change Ron’s mind especially when Ginny’s life was at stake.

 

Before Harry could persuade Seamus from jumping into the trap, he pushed the door open and saw a spiral staircase immediately to his front, “The stairs are going downward. I think this may be the dungeons. I have been wondering where the entrance is. It’s an obvious choice to keep Sirius and others downstairs after all. Maybe we didn’t search this place as thoroughly as we thought. How could we have missed an important place like this?”

 

His friends looked to him and waited for the order. Harry was trying to think of some reason to keep the team from the door, but they had a mission to complete. Charging into the unknown might be necessary to save his only family.

 

“I will head in first, Ron and Dean go next. Seamus, watch our backs.”

The Knights assembled to the formation and carefully descended into the dungeons. Harry had a bad feeling which only intensified while everything was going spirally downward. Every step he carried on felt heavier and heavier until green fire lit up each torch beside him.

 

 

Harry could not fathom how much time had passed since they found the entrance to the dungeons. The Knights were tired and paranoid. A squeaking sound of a rat just prompted Seamus to jump and bump into him. They had to clean up sticky spider webs along the way as well, which naturally upset Ron. Come to think of it, it could have been almost dusk outside. Hopefully the Knights could get the hostages out and run fast enough to get away from the forest. However, the young vereran was realistic about their chance of survival. The best he could do was to distract Voldemort, so his friends could escape.

 

He and Voldemort had a score to settle, for making him fall in love and fall apart just as fast.

 

_ “Voldemort, you bastard! Let us go!”  _

 

“You hear that, Harry? It’s Sirius’ voice! That means Ginny is here too!” said Dean excitedly.  “What are we waiting for?”

 

All of them made a run towards the origin of voice. The green torch light on the wall formed a steady current as they dashed. Soon, they came to a massive hallway with several cells lined up on their left and right. Harry’s godfather and his team were placed in the largest cell. The Knights gathered in front of the cell. A shadow was able to close the exit door and slither in without anyone noticing because all of them were rapt with joy.

 

A grinning Seamus pulled out his favourite bomb and mounted it on the rusty bars, “Everyone, stand back. This is going to be a big BOOM.”

 

In the blink of an eye, the cell mates and Knights clung to the nearest walls to shield themselves from the impact. Thankfully, the only ones affected by the blast were the now charring iron bars. Everyone was coughing in the black smoke created from Seamus’ handiwork. It took a while to clear up the smoke in the airtight dungeons. When they were able to see the Scouts, they were relieved to see no one was gravely injured. Ron kicked down the burned door, and each Knight unshackled the Scouts by breaking the iron chains with his sword.

 

 

Sirius visibly exuded happiness when he saw Harry, “Oh, cub, it’s good to see your face.”

 

“What happened?” Harry asked, helping him up from the cell floor.

 

Still startled from the explosion, Remus checked his body for any visible injury before he gave an answer, “We discovered this castle coming out of nowhere on the third day after departure from our station. When we approached, a swarm of Dementors ambushed us, so we had no choice but walk into Voldemort’s trap.” Remus shuddered from the memory of Dementors.

 

His other godfather continued with contempt, “Yeah, and the wretch knocked us out as soon as we came in. His face… it was terrifyingly disgusting. But never mind that… We just woke up ten minutes ago, and then you guys were here for us!”

 

Harry creased his brows in confusion, “But all of you have been missing for two weeks, as far we know. Voldemort must have put you under a spell to wake up at this specific moment.”

 

“Not all of us…” Hermione weakly whispered. Her legs betrayed her and caused her to collapse.

 

“Hermione!” Ron’s arms quickly caught Hermione’s. The freckled Knight carefully kneeled down and let his crush lie on him. While Sirius gave his cloak to Hermione for extra warmth, Remus fished out his water flask and poured the precious supply into Hermione’s mouth.

 

Unlike his fully healthy godfathers, Hermione’s cheeks were hollow and pasty. Her body was sweating and shaking with strong trepidation. Hermione’s frantic expression further confirmed his suspicion: Voldemort left Hermione out because she _knew_.

 

The young scholar rasped, “Voldemort... charmed his face to incite fear,” she coughed, producing a wheezing sound, “I used the counter… spell to shield us, but I was only able to protect Ginny… from the effect.”

 

Harry urged, “And where is she? Why isn’t Ginny here with you?”

 

Ron kept massaging Hermione’s back in circles and held her close. She was no longer sweating. The sick girl sat up straight, and her firm eyes refused to be shut down by fatigue.

 

She started to speak again, “When he captured us, he said he has a plan for Harry. I don’t know what it is, but Harry I think he wants to kill you.”

 

“What exactly did he say, Hermione?”

 

“He took Ginny so he could create -”

 

Cut off by an invisible force, Hermione ceased being able to talk. Right after she stopped talking, Harry was dragged to a statue, bound, and gagged with the scaly tail of a forty-foot snake. Hermione’s pupils widened when her hands involuntarily went to her exposed neck and started choking herself. Immediately, Ron was having difficulty trying to keep her from suffocating. Sirius and Remus joined the effort, but the curse only seemed to intensify tenfold the more they struggled.

 

Dean and Seamus each drew their blades and attacked the snake. However, their slashing only further incurred the wrath of the serpent. The gigantic snake successfully evaded the blades despite its large size. When Dean stumbled, the smart predator saw Seamus running towards his friend and unleashed poisonous gas to paralyze the Knights. The duo’s mobility was inhibited, and they could do nothing but glare at the monstrosity flicking its forked tongue at them.

 

“You are spilling too much, Low-born. And what do we have here?” a sinister baritone resonated throughout the dim dungeon. From the closed door, there came a cloaked man emerging from the dirty floor. Near the closed door, a cloaked man emerged from the shadows enveloping the dirty floor.

 

Surveying his surroundings, the cloaked man found the subject of his interest, “One, two, three, four. Four more intruders in my private abode, including my favourite Knight who almost destroyed me. So eager to visit me

 

 _You wish_. Harry was gritting his teeth. Even with the disguise, the man’s identity was unmistakable. _Voldemort_.

 

Voldemort simply chuckled, “Alas, you just make me invincible in more than one way.”

 

“Let her breathe! You bastard,” yelled Ron, struggling to hold Hermione’s hands down, “And if you hurt my sister, I’m going to kill you like Harry did before!” Although trapped under Voldemort’s mercy, Hermione’s teary eyes looked to her admirer and pleaded him not to provoke their captor any further.

 

Unimpressed by the feeble threat, Voldemort drawled, “Oh, you mean the mewling quim who shares the same red hair as you? She’s been nothing but a menace since I captured her.”

 

No matter how much Harry wanted to avenge his parents and the freedom of his uncles, he too understood the risk if he let Ron carry on provoking Voldemort. However, the words were stuck in his throat, so he opted to growl to catch Ron’s attention.

 

Folding his slender fingers into a mockingly praying gesture, “The two of you are siblings, aren’t you? It must be strenuous to fight and squabble with a mouth like that. Perhaps I can do you a favour and permanently silence it…”

 

Somehow, the snake tail was out of Harry's mouth now, but the Knight Captain was too late to stop his friend, "NOOOOO!”

 

Ron unsheathed his blade. Instead of taking the dueling stance, the enraged Knight decided to take a risk. The enraged Knight held the sword, took a step back, and threw it like a projectile at an unstoppable speed. The tremendous momentum also triggered the magic gem that was embedded in the rain guard and used to amplify the impact when landed in target's torso. Nevertheless, Voldemort was still faster than the Knight. He brandished his wand and turned the flying sword into a domestic snake. The sword-turned snake was startled by the strange place and fled somewhere else through a mouse hole as soon as it landed on the stone floor.

 

Ron went pale when not only his sword was gone, but all of them were at once rendered defenseless.

 

Voldemort shook his head at the pathetic crowd and turned to his prize - Harry.

 

“Leave us.” The Dark Lord commanded in a cold somber tome.

 

A wave of dark energy surrounded the other Knights and the captives. Despair was like poison spreading and promptly paralyzing Harry's body. He could do nothing but watch his friends vanish before his eyes

Even though the taller man’s face was partially covered, Harry knew he was smirking beneath the shadow.

 

Harry wondered if the wizard had any scar or visible damage to his face. The blow he had once landed on the evil man must have inflicted significant damage. His former blade, the Nimbus, was imbued with great magic power at that time, but it soon disintegrated as it pierced through Voldemort's heart. The young Knight had stood by and watched the struggling male failing to get the broken pieces out of his body. Eventually, the soundless drop of a dead leader declared their victory.

 

As if sensing his curiosity, Voldemort decided to slowly uncloak his face to tease Harry and keep his attention on himself only.

 

Harry’s anticipating eyes first outlined the protruding jawline, but there was something peculiar about the texture of his skin.

 

_Oh, you've got to_ _be_ _joking...What is it with him and his obsession with snakes?_

 

Voldemort's face was laced with pearly white scales, glistening in their gruesome glory. The scales were neatly aligned on the cheeks. As Harry looked closer to the upper portion of Voldemort's face, the whole canvas was a beautiful gradient of teal to bright silver if one simply ignored that it was a man's face. There was something new about the eyes. A pair of golden, slitted pupils replaced the sharp crimson gaze that used to frequently visit his dreams. Overall, the man looked like the same animal on his family coat of arms. A snake.

 

 

Voldemort did not explain the change in great detail, "It was a small price to pay for my survival."

 

Then, the serpentine man materialized two comfortable leather chairs and a tea set, “Do excuse me for my tardy appearance. I would have changed it into a more human look had I genuinely cared about the opinion of plebeians, namely your friends.”

 

Knowing it was not time to fight back, Harry kept his expression neutral and deducted, “You like your face.”

 

_Why else would he show it to me in person, anyway?_

 

“True. I find my new appearance very fearsome. You seem to take it very well, young Captain. Your peasant friends literally screeched when I showed it to them. I had to sedate most of them to make a proper conversation with that low-born girl. Her birth status is very unfortunate; I imagine she would have been a capable Court Lady given proper upbringing –“

 

Harry did not have the patience to listen the rest of the insult. His only loose hand reached for the hilt of his new blade, the Firebolt, yet his left hand did not find his weapon.

 

Voldemort playfully waved his index finger in its direction.

“Tsk, tsk. Really, my dear Captain? You want to play the hero and repeat the same mistake as that foolish buffoon did? I thought you were more than just a rash little puppet of the old coot. You can do better than being a subservient follower, you know.”

 

Harry seethed, “Do. Not. Insult. Dumbledore.”

 

Strangely, Voldemort had a serene smile on him. It was as if he had expected Harry's reaction but chose to carry on inciting him anyway. The Dark Lord calmly began to unbutton his robe, "My facial features are a result of my own doing, Harry. But you left something to me."

 

Voldemort ripped open his undershirt to display the left side of his chest, and Harry was stunned to see shards of his Nimbus were still there. It was hard to see from where he was bound, yet a shape of lightning was definitely on the location of Voldemort's heart.

 

Voldemort directed an adoring look at his heart, "I remember the day I absorbed my Horcrux, Tom Riddle as you may remember. He is a mere fragment of my soul, preserved in my younger years. I was amused and flattered: Imagine the Golden Knight, the protégé of Dumbledore, the Noble Heir to the House of Potter, fell in love with my naive ignorant younger self. Ha, ha, ha..."

 

 

Harry was very quiet and leaned his head downward, but for those who knew him, it would have been a sign that he was on the verge of losing his cool.

"... There was nothing you can do. He might have been separated from me, but I still maintain control over him. He would eventually have to yield to me. His useless tricks are no match with my grand design. It should be no surprise to you that I would find out about your little teenage escapades. I never intended to leave him; to let anyone take advantage of my most important keepsake, so I made sure I could take it back at any time."

 

"But you didn't do that because..."

 

Rejoiced to ‘entertain’ his only audience, Voldemort madly showed off the fruition of his diabolical scheme,

 "Why, I was curious as to what you'd do of course! As it turns out, he became something so precious to you that you were willing to even sacrifice your life to protect him. It would be a waste of an opportunity not to break the most resilient warrior in this kingdom. It was painful to reabsorb Tom into my soul. He put up quite a fight, that arrogant boy. But oh my, what a sweet victory!

And you thought your Tommy betrayed you out of his own will. Seeing you breaking his heart was oddly satisfying too. That petulant child deserved the punishment for working against me."

 

At this moment, Harry did not bother to hide his tears,

"You're wrong. I knew. Tom told me everything. Before you could burn down our main fortress, he told me about everything about you and him. Both of you might have a dark past, but he made a choice of walking out of it. He believed in our vision even though he would not admit it. What we need is equal right to every man and woman in this country, to have the power to change our corrupt world."

 

Harry suppressed the hurt feelings and grief. A reopened wound was hard to heal once someone sprinkled it with salt on top of slashing it open. A tactic often used to revoke anger and manipulate the target’s emotions. He would not let Voldemort have his satisfaction, because his loyal friends would not want him to succumb to the manipulative bastard, either. However, most importantly, he would never let Tom’s sacrifice go to waste.

 

“King Dumbledore… promises a new fair government; he would only stay in power until everything is set in place. He once read about a country where men are allowed to vote on their desired leader and policies. If they could do it centuries ago, so can we now!”

 

Voldemort frowned at his stubborn captive but poured himself a glass of vintage wine,

“I possess several scrolls regarding the same nation, young one. I can tell you: A kingdom does not perform well in this so-called democratic society. What good does it do if you select a few from a thousand mindless sheep to handle any issues that affect thousands of people? Well- Nothing. They are too scared and inept to make a difference. In the end, the world is in disarray as always, and power is in the hands of the corrupt.”

 

The Knight Captain was fuming, and Voldemort’s nonchalance was only making him angrier. Finally, his fiery tongue could no longer be contained, “At least we have to try! There is no way you can make things better after all you’ve done. Do you really think people will listen to you? If you do, you're insane.”

 

Voldemort’s maniacal laughter broke the tension in the air; at least Harry was not getting choked by the big snake again. Apparently, the madman was not offended by Harry's accusation at all.

 

For the first time, Voldemort asked him a serious question, “Naive and reckless, but you did raise a good question. Tell me, my dear Harry. How much do you know about the era before Dumbledore or the former government Ministry began to oversee this magical land?” Voldemort spat at the mention of the current king, but quickly regained his neutral gracefulness.

 

Frustrated by the change of topic, Harry hesitated for a few seconds, “... ‘Four men and women graced the soil of Hogwarts and created the most exuberant culture in our history. We call them the Four Founders:

Godric Gryffindor - the Guardian of Sun and Lion,

Helga Hufflepuff - the Keeper of Life and Nurture,

Rowena Ravenclaw - the Mistress of Wind and Wisdom,

and… Salazar Slytherin - the Creator of Water and Serpent.’

… What does a legend have to do with our situation? I guess old age and madness are a dangerous mix.”

 

“Don’t question greatness, young man, but excellent answer no less. Unlike what my useless follower once reported, I know Tom knew you did pay attention to your lessons. Tell me, what do you know about Salazar Slytherin, my great ancestor?”

 

“Salazar Slytherin turned his back on the humanity and Fell. He summoned things that were never meant to come into our realm.”

 

Voldemort became sober, the demented glint in his eyes diminishing,

"Wrong, child, wrong. He restored the balance between the Mortal Realm and the Otherworld! There was once a pact between the two realms. So long as two worlds are open to one another, and the blood of Founders still flowing, Magic will not fade. Yet, the three other Founders did not understand the implication of the reverse. Once the connection is lost, we will lose it FOREVER!

 

Gone was the madman with whom Harry had been speaking, a thinker of clarity was present.

“The majority of them decided to close the connection. They thought the unrest between humans and spirits would be solved by severing our magical core! The process is slow, but at the end of the day, there will be no magic left to save… how can I sit by and let this happen? But it’s not too late. I am the last Slytherin in my line. As long as I live, I can still do this, even at the expense of my sanity.”

 

_Oh, Godric. This man is either_ _completely mad_ _or irritatingly rational, but this whole bigger-than-war thing is giving me headache._

 

“What?! Are you out of your mind? Nothing you say makes sense! ” Harry stammered, “But… how… if you are just trying to restore the connection … Why are you fighting so hard against the innocent bystanders? Like me?”

 

Voldemort became reluctant to talk. He ordered the snake in hissing sounds, and Harry was released from the reptile’s hold. The Knight Captain massaged his bruised skin and cleared his throat. Unfortunately, he could still taste the stale liquid emitted by the snake in his mouth.

“I… lost track in my goals. To find the balance in the world, magical strength and sheer power of will are absolutely essential. I thought… I could take on this mission myself. I abhor the notion of sentiments, so I created Horcruxes. Not just because I need to stay immortal, but I thought emotions, especially love, made me weak,” grunted Voldemort, “And you proved me wrong by bringing Tom close to you. Destroyed my plans several times a year. That old fool’s eyes must have been twinkling all the time when you sacrificed your beauty sleep just to be with that brat.”

 

Blushing like the burgundy cape he was wearing, Harry was speechless to hear Voldemort’s comment on his short-lived love life.

 

A blushing Harry shouted his protest, “That’s none of your business! And stop viewing his memories! It’s not like a full grown Dark Lord should have any interest in teenagers’ sex life! Honestly, is that what you do in spare time?”

 

Bringing up this question was a grave mistake on our horny teenager’s part because Voldemort seductively strode towards him and fiercely grinned at his blissful ignorance.

 

“What if I do, Harry?” Voldemort purred, “You are the Last Potter, and the Last Gryffindor. It is easy to take notice of you. Yet, I admit you grew up to become quite a sight to behold.”

 

Harry almost flinched at the sight of Voldemort’s disturbingly gleeful smile. Without hesitation, the madman gave him an equally unsettling answer as well,

“You and me, Harry. Think of what we could accomplish. Legend has it that the families of lions and serpents almost never got along, but if they unite, the potential is said to be so lethal that it can equal the valor of the Four.”

 

Nausea was crawling its way into Harry’s stomach. He had not felt this sick since he skinned his first hunt and a few after that. In fact, he thought he had become numb to the concept of taking lives so long as it was justified. Surviving, protecting the innocent, defending your family, or simply salvaging whatever was left in this godforsaken world.

 

The end of war was supposed to set him free from guilt and pain. Yet, the wicked came back stronger. Assuming the man was not manipulating his allegiance, how could he possibly rescue two worlds compared to one kingdom as before? His mind would not survive another war.

 

That being said, a bound, albeit unconscious Ginny immediately appeared next to Voldemort’s stone throne. Not letting Harry have a chance to approach her, the large snake smoothly wrapped itself around the girl and remained quietly still.

 

"I once asked you to be mine. But Harry, despite your rejection, you have marked me with this lightning symbol, the most dangerous man ever to walk on this kingdom. You thrust your sword into me. I remember the agony, but I also remember experiencing ecstasy and a thrill. I had found my true equal. No one else has done it but you. If you cannot be mine, then let me be yours."

 

Every word was spoken with such softness and sincerity. However, Harry was not going to take any risk. He shakily pleaded, “If it’s me that you want… just let my friends go.”

 

He couldn’t believe he had just said it.

 

Voldemort released Ginny but vanished her like he did with Harry’s companions. Weirdly enough, the large snake looked disappointed from Harry’s point of view.

 

The younger man's heavy armour vaporized as Voldemort flicked his finger. Although he still had his clothes on, he felt vulnerable under the other man's predatory gaze. Slender fingers found themselves on the Captain’s forehead- marred by the same lightning scar. Then, the fingers gently touched his cheeks, jawbone, and nape of his neck. The cold, calloused palm covered his left collarbone. Grey lips were inching closer to his face, yellow eyes void of malice...

 

And Voldemort kissed him. Or so he thought.

 

“But not today. Perhaps when I am more presentable. I will send out an amiable invitation to you.”

 

The hero was puzzled, “Huh? What?”

 

The corners of Voldemort’s lips curved up, “How articulate, my love. I meant to say your friends are safe for now. Enjoy this brief reunion. But remember, you will come back to me. Willingly into my arms. Until then, enjoy your freedom and the remaining time you have with your friends. Farewell.”

 

With that said, Voldemort swept his cloak up to cover himself and his scaly minion, and the black clothing kept shrinking until it became nothing but a puff of smoke. Harry was left stunned and somehow disappointed by the lack of evil actions.

 

_Merlin’s pants!_ _What_ _am_ _I thinking?! It’s not that I want to be smooched by him!_

 

The young Knight strongly shook his head, still feeling disoriented from the big talk about the fate of humanity and fading Magic. However, most importantly, he could still trace the lingering touches made by Voldemort. Why did he care so much about what Voldemort said before he retreated?

 

_‘If you cannot be mine, then let me be yours.’_

 

Like a torch thrown into a field, the fire continued expanding and augmenting as the time went on. Once it grew stronger, nothing was spared. In the end, a land would be scorched and wasted because no one was there to douse the little spark that triggered the destruction.  Would he become the wasteland?

 

Could it be that Tom was still inside somewhere in Voldemort? Had Voldemort’s oversight caused Tom’s love to evolve into a more twisted emotion? If Tom had truly been drawn back into Voldemort’s soul, he could only hope it was for the better.

 

No use contemplating on the Voldemort-or-Tom problem, Harry decided and pushed himself to open the exit door of the dark dungeons. Surprisingly, the door led him to the courtyard of the castle. Ten yards away, Ginny and Remus were attending the injured Knights while Hermione and Sirius were brewing poultices out of Hermione’s makeshift potion station.

 

Being at the right angle to spot Harry first, Ron happily exclaimed, “Harry! You’re alive!”

 

Others turned their heads and their eyes lit up brightly. The Knights collectively ignored Hermione and Remus’ warnings and supported each other to give a proper salute to their Captain. Harry fondly responded in kind. He noticed Ginny was looking well and healthy even though she did not seem to remember much from the capture.

 

No matter how glad he was to see his friends safe and sound, the joy was rather tainted by the gnawing anxiety in the back of his mind. Hermione sensed his underlying concern too. She was the only one of the few people who knew about his relationship with Tom and his true identity. Ron had discovered their ‘midnight adventures’ in the most inopportune situation, yet his best friend had only inquired who was ‘in the upper hand’ after the shock had passed. Both the scholar and Knight Captain were convinced it was better to leave out the details in case the ginger had a heart attack.

 

The Scouts and Knights were packing to leave the forest. In the corner of his peripheral vision, Hermione approached him. He knew what she was going to ask, but he still winced at Hermione’s question.

 

“Is _he_ inside there?” the scholar queried. 

 

Harry paused to mull over the question. Hermione worriedly thinned her lips as he looked in the opposite direction.

 

_Was he?_

_Does he even count as a significantly large part of Voldemort’s soul?_

_Is he still fighting?_

_Can I help him?_

_What if Voldemort was winning the war of mind against his rogue soul fragment?_

_Will he learn to love the man?_

_Or will he die trying to save the best moment of his life from the taint?_

 

He could not know for sure.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

_But I wish he is still alive._

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm unapologetic about Loki reference in the middle of the story. I don't find any adequate medieval insult, so mewling quim it is. The same goes to a couple innuendos I placed throughout this oneshot.
> 
> OMG, a plot bunny has become an actual fic. I feel so accomplished.


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